Holocaust Hanyou
by Inu-yasha-lover-chick
Summary: After her house being raded Kagome is sent to a death camp.Will she survive? And how exactly does Inuyasha fit into all this? (InuKag MirSan)
1. Default Chapter

I came up with this story one day in History. It just popped into my head and I just had to use it. I hope you enjoy it and make sure to review at the end!!!! Does anyone know how to say: left, right, and quickly in German? Please send me a review telling me! Thank you!

One word you will need to know is Untermenschen, it means sub humans.

- Disclaimer: I do not own any Inuyasha characters and I was not in any way involved with the Holocaust.

The Holocaust was such a sad thing… I almost cried while writing some of my chapters to this… Even though this is the only one I've posted so far. Now Read On!!!

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Chapter One

I screamed as the men in dark clothing broke down the door of out house. Momman told me to run.

"Go Kagome! Do not let them see you!" I did/ I ran to my brother's room and hid behind his toy box. Sota had not returned from school today. Momman cried. She would not tell me why. But I knew. The men. The men had gotten him. We had thought it was safe. Had though we had time to get away. Papa said we should have left months ago, when the first signs of danger shown. But Momman refused. She told him we had time.

"The Germans can not get to us here Marcus." Momman was wrong. After Sota did not come home she had ordered me to pack. Papa said he had tickets to America. America, he said, we could go to school without being spit on. Wishful thinking Momman had replied. But if I try hard I can remember a time here in Strasbourg when I was not spit on at school. I even had a best friend. Ayume was her name. That was long ago. Ayume and I do not speech now. She pretends like I do not exist. We share the same class; No one seems to like me anymore. The teacher, Mr. Henri tells me that soon I will not be aloud to attend school anymore. It makes me sad. I enjoy literature.

I heard Papa yell at the man, and Momman scream. I did not hear what the man said. His voice was very mean. He sounded German. I heard more men enter the house, one man walked past me; he did not realize I was there though. He wore the same dark clothing as the other man. I heard Momman and Papa being dragged out of the house. I held back tears as a loud shot was heard. Then another. I remember hearing Momman scream… She screamed 'Sota'. Then… Another shot. Then there was nothing but the laughter of the cruel men who I knew had shot my family. A moment later I heard other families scream. Mrs. Frank. Poor Mrs. Frank and her husband. I remember sitting there for a long while, until the streets were quite. I slowly got up. It was only in Gods mercy that the men did not find me behind my brother's toy box. My family though… They were gone. I went outside. Blood stained the street. I was alone.

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I walked for hours that night. Making sure to stay in the shadows. If the men saw me… God may not have mercy twice. I walked until I reached Ayume's house. So many good memories there. When I was five Momman had let me stay at Ayume's house. We had played with our favorite dolls for hours. I had not been there in a long time. Walking to the door I know now I should have walked away. It would have saved me a lot of pain. I could have remembered Ayume as my best friend, but I knocked on the door. Ayume answered.

"What do you want?" Her voice was mean, but I ignored it. I broke down and cried. Told her how my Momman, Papa, and Sota were gone. How I was alone and had escaped the men.

"May I stay with you Ayume? Only for tonight." I thought I saw something flash in her eyes, but she only glared.

"Why would I help a stupid Jew? Go away. It is a shame the Nazis didn't kill you with your family." She turned and shut the door in my face. The last thing I heard her say was 'Stinking Jew' from inside the house. I was surprised. Ayume had been my best friend. Once when we were nine Ayume had run away and stayed at my house until she stopped crying. She had once been so sweet. I could not believe she had done that to me… could not believe she had been so mean.

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I woke to someone kicking me in the side. It was cold. I had found a dark corner next to a closed coffee shop and slept there. The kicking came again.

"You, wench. Get up." I opened my eyes. A man in dark clothing stood above me. I felt my heart pound in fear. He was one of the men who had raided my house. He must have seen the fear in my eyes for he smirked at me as I stood.

"So you are a Jew." His eyes drifted over me making me feel naked.

"Where is your star? It is a crime to be a Jew and not wear the Star. Get in the truck." I nodded. Afraid if I disobeyed he would shoot me with the gun strapped to his hip. I reached for the doorknob. A hand grabbed my hair pulling me onto the ground.

"Not the front Jew! The back! Now!" His hand twitched beside the gun. I stood quickly climbing into the cab of the truck. In the can were many people, all holding the same expression. Fear. Two men in dark clothing, just as the man in front, sat with us back there. Mothers held their children to their chests, muting their cries. I sat alone. I had no family. No friends. Just me.

"Shut that thing up or I will!" One of the men screamed at a mother holding her infant. The mother tried to quite the child, but the crying continued. I saw what would happen moments before it did. The man in uniforms muscles tensed. He locked his jaw, but then, he smiled. The mother screamed as he took the baby from her arms flinging it out the truck. I stood to catch the child… But it was too late. Moments later, all in the truck were bathed in bed as the other man shot the mother screaming for her dead child. The ride was silent after that. All of us seeing the woman and her child die over and over in our minds.

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When the truck stopped the men ordered us out. Outside was a town. The town was behind brick. Tall brick walls. Inside the brick, the town was dirty. Rats scampered through the streets, the smell of urine and other body waste was strong. And a smell I did not yet know.

"Welcome home." The men laughed, and then shut the only exit from that place. We were all alone.

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I spent a year in that place. It became habit to call it home. But it was not. It was a prison. We were fed only when they wanted to feed us. Many of us starved. Why did the men, the Nazis, hate us Jews? Papa had always said we were all equal. But if we are all equal, then why do the bad people get the pretty housed and food every night, when all we get, the people who have done no wrong, live in sewer, and are only given a potato a house hold? Though I am sure not everyone in our home, the prison, was innocent, but none deserved that. The sewer, as I called it, Was a horrible place to live. In each house we had at least seven families. In winter we had only the cloths on our backs, and some owned a blanket. Not all were torn from their house as I had been. Some had been told lies. Told they were one of many who got to live in the new housing complexes. They were given time to pack. But others, others were only given five minutes, aloud only two suit cases. Then there were people like me. Taken. No belongings. Just ourselves. Many died that winter. They froze to death. Not even the dead were treated with respect. We were told to lay our dead outside. By only the middle of that year, there was no walking space in the streets. You learned to not think about it. Pretend that the squishy feeling under your bare feet was not a body, but mud. That summer I realized what the other stench was. Dead bodies. It disgusted you, made you want to vomit. But you learned not to. If you did, you would have no food in your stomach. Without food, you would starve. I once saw a child walk outside of her crowded house, to see her mother's body. Flies swarmed inside her mouth and maggots filled her eye sockets. The child puked but then went on her hands and knees eating it back up. She called to her brother and the two of them ate the maggots from their dead mother's eyes. It was horrible to see, yet I knew it was necessary. The children had to eat. Those who let their pride get to them, died.

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Every day we lived in fear the Nazis would come. They always came, once or twice a week at first, then, whenever they pleased I suppose. Choosing day they called it. They would come and have us all stand in a line in front of them. They would always have trucks. Like the one that had taken me to the sewer. Momman always said to stand up for what's right. But once a man did that here… And the Nazis shot him. Mothers and Fathers would try to hide their children from the men, but, The Nazis always found them. Except for the littlest. A little girl with long red hair. There was a small hole in one of the walls. That day it was choosing day. They were taking all with red hair. The child had been unfortunate in resembling her mother who also had long red hair. The mother tried frantically to hide the child, but I knew they would find her. So I took the girl, and showed her the hole, she ran our. I never found out what happened to her afterward. All I know… Is she escaped.

Choosing day was always the worst. They would take the children some days. Other days the elders or people with blue eyes, ect. I always tried to close my eyes when they took the children. It was awful. They would sometimes take infants and throw them in the air. They played it as a game. See who could shoot it the most. Then, when the baby fell to the ground, the dogs they had would tear it apart. It the mother made one noise, they would be shot also, or be chosen to go to the 'camp'. They almost always made a noise… None of us knew what the 'camp' was. All we knew, was no one ever came back. I always thought the ones that were chosen were lucky. Back when I was a small child Papa would take me and Sota camping in Paris I believed that's where the people that were chosen went. It only proves how young and naive I was.

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I was one of the chosen on that spring day. I was not happy, but I was glad to finally be chosen to finally leave the sewer.

"All women with brown eyes. In the back! Viet!" I stepped out from my safe place in the line and walked quickly with the other woman to the truck. I closed my eyes when I heard a mother's strangled cry, and two shots. Yes. The camp would be better. I was thirteen then. My birthday was the day before. There had not been a celebration. No one had known.

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We drove for three hours I believe. None spoke. Finally the truck stopped.

"Our. Now! Onto the train!" We climbed and were surprised to see others climbing out of trucks also and filing into a cattle car.

"But sir, that is for cows." One man who looked to be about eighteen said. A Nazi smirked and pushed him in with the hilt of his gun.

The ride was long and hot. And at night cold. It was hard to breath there were so many of us. There was no room to sit; we had no choice but to stand. If we felt the need to relieve ourselves we had no choice but to wet ourselves, though there was a pot in the very back, but there were too many to be able to reach it. The cattle cart stank so horribly, from both cow waste and human. The ride lasted for what seemed like years. I have no idea how long it truly was. In all the time we were on the train we only stopped once. Only a few of us were given the privilege of water. By the time we reached our destination there was room enough to sit. Many died. From suffocation and lack of nutrition

"Women over there!" A man in a doctor's coat told us. The men were told to go to the right. He had a good look at all of them and made us two more lines.

"Left! Right!" He would scream. I was put to the left. All of the people who looked more sickly than I were sent to the showers. I was mad. I was filthy. I deserved a shower! But I later learned to be thankful that I was sent to the left.

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We were taken to a small building were we had to go into yet another line. My life seemed to be made of lines. Sad, horrible lines that lead to nothing but disappointment. It took forever but finally I was close enough to see what we were lined up for. Many women sat behind a long table and were tattooing something on each persons arm. I could not see what. At last it was my turn. The woman behind the table lowered the needle point to my arm.

"I want a sunflower please." The woman looked up at me startled, and then gave me a sad smile that almost went unnoticed. Looking around I saw none were smiling. They all seemed to be afraid to show emotion. The needle touched my skin.

"What is your name?" I smiled at her proud to say my name. No one ever asked. These days, no one ever wanted a friend, afraid they might lose them in death, or they would turn their backs on them like so many had done.

"Kagome Higarashi."

"How old?"

"Thirteen." I was so very proud. I thought I had made a friend. I was so naive back then. I winced and gave a startled yelp as she pushed the needle into my skin piercing it. The woman stopped and looked around worriedly, talking to me in a hushed voice.

"Shush child!" _Child_? She was younger than I was!

"If they hear you, then you die. I die. _Please_ be quite." I knew then this was not Paris with my Papa. This was another prison. A cry was heard then a cracking sound. A man left the room. He had just broken a woman's neck. The needle girl whispered sadly.

"Annemarie…" Or I too would be lying in my own blood. Just as so many people in my life so far had been. I held back another yelp as the girl trace numbers into my arm. I was told by her in her hushed voice to memorize that number. It was almost like a life line.

750801315

As I walked away, following the endless line, the girl touched my hand glancing around scared.

"Do not forget your name." Forget my name? The girl was full of foolishness. Yet, her eyes seemed to hold more wisdom than that of a grandmother.

We were led to another room where we had to sit in a chair. I held back tears as my long black hair was cut, then shaved from my head. I did not understand why all of this had to be done, all I knew, was I must do what I was told. And that was to sit still, while the people shaved my head. I wanted to cry so badly. Funny thing to get so sad over a little hair, yet I did. My hair was my only possession. It was all I had, and I was proud of it. Somehow, through that long year in the sewer I had managed to take care of my hair. It had grown long, well past my bum. But now it was gone. 'Don't cry. It will grow back.' I comforted myself. But I was still sad. I owned nothing. Looking down at my arm I felt as if I did not even own my body. It was as if I was branded cattle. Just what they intended I found.

After we were shaved we were taken to the showers and given cloths. They were raggedy, and mine were too small, but we made do. We undressed and stepped into the room. We had to stand in a line once again as a woman shaved our vagina hair. I tried not to care. Tried not to think of how I was naked in front of people I did not know. But I had been raised with modesty. My face turned as red as a tomato. The woman shaving us glared at our red faces and smacked me.

"Here you have no modesty. You are cows. Untermenschem. You have no modesty." I blinked and looked around. She was half right. We did not look like humans with our shaved heads and numbers on our arm. That was what they intended. Many girls ran through the showers trying to find a friend of family member. It was almost impossible. We all looked the same. Pale and bald. A corien woman was next to me showering and leaning her head back to drink the water. She was not Jewish, I could tell.

"Why are you here?" I asked quietly she replied sadly looking at her marked arm.

"Because I am foreign. Even though I was born here in Germany…." So they hated more than Jews… How sad.

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Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! Don't worry the next chapters will be way better! Please REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you! I should be updating in about a week or two! 


	2. Chapter Two

I AM SOOO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE!!!!!!! We just got our own computer so from now on the updates should be WAY quicker. I don't have enough time right now because my mom wants on the computer, but next time I will reply to all reviewers, for those who have already reviewed, Thank you!!! And for those who haven't, REVIEW! It really helps and makes you feel good. Plus you don't get _writers block_ so often Hint Hint wink wink. Lol. Like I said before, sorry!!! Now read on and enjoy the fic!!!!

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_CHAPTER TWO_

After the showers we were lead to our dorms. I was dorm number. It wasn't really a dorm, but a building with wooden beds. If that's what you wanted to call the splinter mattresses. We were once again lined up vertically. We had not been aloud to dress into our rags yet, so they sat beside us. We were naked. A Nazi man walked in and stood next to the woman. He looked at us quickly, then slowly, walking past each one. He looked at me and ran his gaze over my body. His gaze lingered at my viginia. I felt so humiliated and disgusted. Momman had always said the only man that should ever look at your naked body, was your husband. I did not even know the man before me, staring openly at everyone's crotch and breasts. We all felt the same. Ashamed, humiliated, and scared. We did not even have hair over our womanhood to protect us from his winter stare.. We were bare to anything and everything.

The man finished looking over each one of us. He began to explain the rules in his loud mean voice. We were to do only what we were told. If we did not…

When he gave that order he smiled touching his gun. In the mornings we were to get up at sunrise and work. Work would last all day. No one would get a brake. If we were caught not doing work, we did. It seemed as if that's how everything was here. You did, or you died.

The rules went on and on. By the time he had finished giving rules and orders it was time for workers to return and head to bed. He seemed disappointed, maybe even man that we did not get here earlier so that we may work. After he and the woman left we finally were able to dress into our rags.

Minutes later about seventy or more women in filthy rags, worse than some of ours, filed into the dorm building quickly and quietly. After the door shut they began talking to us. Telling us how life would be from now on. I was not looking forward to it. It sounded horrible. I had no idea how horrible it would be, even after all the pain I had lived through I still had no idea how bad it would be.

Some of the woman seemed surprised at the order we had done things.

"When I was taken here my head was shaved first."

"No it was the showers." The small argument ended when the sound of feet came lightly. We all climbed into a 'bed' stacked against the walls. The door opened quickly and a woman ran in jumping into bed panting hard.

"Sango! You should not try to escape! One of these days you will be caught!" The woman, or girl, (You could not tell, you could barley assume how old anyone was. They all looked the same. Skinny, none and skin, bald, and eyes sunk in.) Panted again.

"What difference would it be if they decided I was to die now than if they caught me?" A woman that I could not see from where I lay spoke. She sounded as my great grandmother had before she died when I was six did.

"You should just give up on him girl." Sango did not seem to hear her.

"I have to get Kohaku out of this hell hold. He is young. He doesn't deserve this. None of us do. The devil almost caught me this time while I was by Kohaku's dorm. But I got away." The woman who had spoken before spoke again sadly.

"How do you even know he is still alive? We have not seen any of the men or boys since the day we arrived. He could have been sent to another camp, or the chambers God forbid, shot, starved-"

"Don't you think I know that? But he's my brother! I'm not going to give up on him, I won't become like, like…" She stopped speaking. She did not cry. She just stopped speaking.

I slept that night, not soundly, I kept seeing people dieing before me. And I kept hearing my momman's screams.

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"Get up! Up!" I opened my eyes slowly and coughed. My throat was dry. Someone's foot kicked me in the ribs as they quickly got out of the splintered bed. I could feel all the tiny wooded needles stuck into my back as I made a move to sit up. The girl named Sango looked at me eyes wide and mouthed for me to hurry. I nodded quickly getting out of my small wooden bed and placing my feet in the too- small wooden shoes we had been given. How wonderful. Now my feet would also feel the wonder prick of wooden needles.

"Line up." The woman that had shaved us when I arrived stood beside the door ordering us. We all filed out the door as quickly as we could, some of us tripping over one another. When I looked closely I saw she too had her head shaved. I wanted to ask her about it, ask her why she was helping kill her own people, but Sango must have known because she turned and shot me a quick look before anyone could see. I kept my mouth shut. I would need to become accustomed to that in this new place, or I might loose my tongue. Literally.

We stood in rows for hours as a man called our numbers to make sure we were all present. One woman did not answer. She was not there. I can only assume she died. Whether it was before roll call or after I could not say. All I know is her number was never repeated.

After roll call it was my first day of true work. Momman had lived on a farm as a child and used to always criticize me in my work and lecture me when I complained about my chores.

"You don't know what hark work is Kagome Higarashi!" I learned that day that Momman did not truly know either.

We were given pointless jobs. Some, me excluded, were to push huge, heavy rocks from one place to another. Back and forth. Some jobs were not as pointless. Horrible, but not pointless. The Nazis had us dig graves. Huge holes in the ground that must have gone miles both down and across. The graves didn't seem to be separate graves, what it really was just one huge grave. I was one of the gravediggers. Digging that grave I felt the need to puke. What kind of monster was I? Digging the grave of people who had not died yet. For the people that were only alive because the grave wasn't deep enough yet. I felt as though I were killing them.

The day lasted forever. As did the day after, and every day for the rest of the year.

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Each night I went to sleep hungry and sore. My bones ached and I could not imagine how anyone could last as long as some had there. Sango had been there for two years. Possibly longer. She wasn't sure. She and I had somehow managed a friendship in hell. Both of us felt the same way I think. Glad to have a friend in our hell, but dreading it at the same time. We knew that one of us would die. Friendship never lasted in the camp. We felt horrible I think, because although we didn't want the other to die, we prayed our selves would out last the other. I understood why some kept to themselves, but Santo said it wasn't healthy. How she thought of health when we were all clearly dieing and starving to death I do not know.

"Do you see them? Because they have no friends they wonder around doing only what they are told. Being nothing more than a number. They have long since forgotten their names. They have no life anymore! They are as good as dead. They can't even love anymore…" Sango had gotten sad when she spoke of those people. I did not know if it was because she was sad for them, or if perhaps she was involved personally. I don't know what I was thinking. Of course she was involved personally… We all were in some way or another.

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Most nights before we fell asleep from exsostion, Sango and I would speak of our families. I would tell her stories of Momman, Papa, and Sota. And in return she would tell me of her brother. I heard much of her parents. Only that they had been deeply in love. Sango spoke of love often. I think it was to make sure she didn't forget it.

She would tell me stories of how her brother had learned to ride a bicycle, how old he was, where he had gone to school, and how she was going to save him. I envied her. Sango loved Kohaku so much she would risk her life to save him from this hell. That was not why I envied her though… I would have done the same for Sota. I envied her, because she still _had_ a brother.

Sango told me how she had tried many times to rescue her brother, but had failed. She had not been caught yet, but I was sure she would be. Sango would only wave her hand when I would speak my worry.

"If I am caught I am caught. I wont let silly worries stop me from trying to save Kohaku." I had glared at her, though I doubt she knew. It was very dark in the dorms. I could not even see her face even though it was very close to mine due to the crowded dorm.

"They are not_ silly worries_ Sango. If you are caught you die."

"And if I am not caught I die anyways. There is no point in worrying about it. I know it will come. My only hope is to save Kohaku before it does. Besides, I would do anything for Kohaku. I love him." I had not argued with her further. Who could argue with the truth?

I began having nightmares. Nightmares that fire was surrounding me and Satan was chasing me with his pitchfork. As it turned out he wasn't only in my nightmares.

'The Devil' they called him. He was a tall man, about six foot one, maybe more. His hair was long and silver. I never got close enough to tell if he was handsome or not. And I didn't plan on it. From what I had heard from Sango and many others, he was _deathly_ handsome. And by deathly, they meant _deadly_. Next to Hitler he was as bad as they came. A born Nazi Sango called him. 'The Devil' was the worst from all the other men at the camp. He would kill a woman just for breathing to loudly. And he had. I had witnessed it.

Not close mind you. But close enough to see the blood splatter onto his chest. I heard many stories about him, and I did not doubt they were true. When you heard rumors about a Nazi, they were almost _always_ true. Unless you heard a rumor about a Nazi falling in love with a Jew. It was impossible. It could never happen.

I would stiffen in fright every time I saw him, and my stomach would twist. I was always worried when Sango would leave to escape with Kohaku. I was so afraid 'The Devil' would catch her. But he never did. And Sango never escaped. She would always come back in quietly but quickly and whisper "Some other day."

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"Got you Dirty Jew!" I almost screamed as I woke from my nightmare. The devil had caught me and was pointing his gun to my head as he had the woman from the camp. My nightmares had changed a little since I began hearing stories about 'The Devil'. Now instead of Satan holding a pitchfork, it was a tall man with silver hair holding a gun. As I fell back to sleep I was conscious of my breathing. I didn't want to be caught breathing to loud.

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I did not dig the graves the morning after. That day only the people to die dug it. I was sent to tattoo the new comers. I remember their faces. Every single one. My heart was breaking more and more as I placed the needle on each woman's arm. One woman was about eight possibly nine months pregnant. I could not bear to look at her. I knew what would happen to her. The Nazis loved when pregnant woman arrived at the camp. They would experiment on them. I felt tears coming into my eyes as the woman touched her stomach and whispered to herself, to her unborn child.

"It's okay…Mommy's going to live so you can have a good life and go to school… So we can all be a family again." I poor woman didn't know that neither of them would live. I tried my best not to cry that day. All those people coming in not knowing what to expect. Somehow for me that was worse than digging the grave. The people meant for the graves new they would die soon anyway. But as I marked each woman's arm… Those women didn't know. They didn't know I singing them a death certificate. Some thought they would have a better life at camp like I had thought… those poor people… so neive and unknowing. The guilt I felt was unbearable. But I had to do it. If I didn't… I would die. But what difference did it make now if I lived or died. Certainly God would not let me enter heavens gates after what I had done. I was helping the Nazis kill. So either way I would be in hell.

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My bones were visible all along my body. Sometimes I would try to count them before I went to bed. I had never realized how many bones were in the human body. My stomach growled loudly and my mouth felt dry. I would often wonder if thoughs who were in hell with Satan felt the same way as I did. I had lowered myself to that of a dog. When we would dig in the grave I would sometimes find worms and eat them when the men were not looking. I knew I had to eat more than they gave us, which was close to nothing. I had little nutrition and I would eat almost any edible thing I could find.

Many women would steal. They would take your food or drink when you were not looking. Some even took your pale. Which was your lifeline. With out your pale you received no food or drink. Without it you starved.

I could not bring myself to be angered by those who stole. They were only doing what they could to stay alive. I knew that not only was hunger eating them alive, but guilt. I could not be mad at someone who was suffering. Maybe that's why so many found it easy to steal from me. Or why I found it easy to steal from them.

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Thank you for reading my fanfic!! The later chapters WILL get better don't worry! Oh, and since this IS an Inuyasha Kagome fic, Inuyasha will soon be entering. I hope you have enjoyed this so far. And for all those that know anything about the Holocaust you know that my story has not even begun to tell the horrors of that time. I don't think anyone could write such a thing… Please Review!!!!!!! I won't update if I get any less than 15! REVIEW!!!!


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